


Howl

by StilesIsTheAlpha



Series: Numb [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Future Fic, M/M, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 16:11:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StilesIsTheAlpha/pseuds/StilesIsTheAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles turned eighteen he ran away from Beacon Hills after a threat from his father. He comes back after nine years and the death of the Sheriff. But so much has changed, with him and the rest of the pack. Stiles was bitten, and he has to struggle with his new furry problem along with the issues of coming back to a pack that feels like he abandoned them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fly Away

**Author's Note:**

> The songs that I choose don't necessarily have anything to do with the chapter. It's more of what I was listening to when I wrote, some don't have words but you should maybe listen to them while reading.
> 
> I think the only other main changes I've made are: Sheriff Stilinski is a drunk abusive father Stiles, Erica was Stiles partner and she never lived in Beacon Hills nor was she ever bitten but her seizures are under control and she is mostly healthy, and they are in the FBI. Because I think that would just be awesome for Stiles to be FBI.

Fly Away

By: Mokhov

/\/\/\/\/\

Nine years. Nine fucking years. And the only person to have seen Stiles was Scott.

And that was because Scott had flown all the way to Washington DC to be with him after Stiles partner was mauled by a werewolf. He and Erica had gotten really close as partners. Scott was the only one in the pack that knew that Stiles had been bitten that same night. Stiles was starting to think that was a bad idea. Because he was currently on a plane back to California, and he was pretty sure Derek was going to have an aneurism when he found out.

Poor Scott.

Actually, Stiles figured he would get the brunt of the Alpha's anger. Because Scotts like a lost puppy and would have just done what he's told, whether or not if it would have been better to just tell Derek. So…

Poor Stiles.

Stiles scrunched his face up, his knee was bouncing with anxiety. Too much had happened in the past two months. Erica had died trying to help Stiles, he had been forced to take a leave of absence until his mental health improved, and then lastly…Sheriff Stilinski had died of a heart attack. And Stiles had mixed feelings about that. It was kind of a relief, but then it was depressing because the man had been his father. A _bastard_. But still his Father.

The man hadn't always been an abusive drunk. But everything changed when Stiles Mom died. Stiles was ten the first time his Father hit him, the man could barely stand he was so drunk. He had apologized the next day but their relationship continued to go downhill and the hitting never stopped, and his Father stopped apologizing, and the behavior was no longer just while he was drunk. They never spoke unless Stilinski was beating the shit out of his son.

And Stiles did his best to spend as much time with Scott as possible while he was a teenager, didn't even tell Scott why he wanted to be there all the time. And then when Scott shoved his head up Allison's ass it had gotten bad again.

Until Derek found out.

Stiles stopped that train of thought right there. He didn't want to think about Derek. He was already close enough to an anxiety attack about him not knowing Stiles was a werewolf. He didn't want to think about the thing that had started between them before Stiles had run with his tail tucked between his legs all the way to DC.

Stiles scrubbed his face before messing up his hair. He grabbed his bag and popped a couple of his anxiety pills and shutting the window covering before leaning back in his seat and trying to sleep for the rest of the flight.

All he wanted to do was fly away from his problems, instead he was flying into them.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Stiles jolted awake by a mixture of the plane landing and the nightmare he had just had. The rest of the occupants of first class kept giving him weird looks. He must have been talking in his sleep again. He sighed and scrubbed his face shaking his head. Trying to forget the slick feeling of blood on his fingers. He pulled up the window cover to watch as the plan pulled up to their gate in the Sacramento Airport.

He played Angry Birds on his phone to give himself a distraction while waiting to be let off the plane. After fifteen minutes he was able to get up and grab his overhead bag before slowly pushing his way off the plane and through the airport. He had the five and a half hour flight from DC and now he had a long ride to boot. At least Scott was going to be driving.

Or that had been the plan when he left DC. But it seems that plan has changed.

Stiles stopped walking at the sight of strawberry blonde hair. Very familiar strawberry blonde hair. He was almost to the baggage claim. Holy shit. Lydia would know as soon as she caught his scent. And holy shit. There was lechy Uncle Peter. Lechy. Uncle. Peter.

What the fuck was Lydia doing with him? His eyes narrowed on them holding hands and…just no. He could not think about Lydia being with Peter. It would make his brain explode. Never mind his brain, his world would explode. And why had Scott not mentioned this? Oh. My. God.

He pulled his most winning smile onto his face as Lydia let go of Peters hand and her steps quickened so that she was leaving the older werewolf behind. How could she walk that fast in heels? And…wow her face still lights up like Christmas when she smiles. Stiles opened his arms for a hug and…

Whack!

His jaw dropped with the stinging in his cheek. He could feel the heat crawling up his neck to his ears. Lydia slapped him. Lydia. Slapped. Him. Oh. My. God.

"Lydiiiaa, what the heeeell?" he would forever disagree with the fact that his voice turned into a whine.

"Don't eve do that to us again," she said, her voice dangerously calm. Lydia glared at him for a moment before her icy façade cracked and her eyes looked sad for a moment. "The pack's not the same without you," she said quietly and Stile's would have had a hard time catching it if it weren't for his heightened hearing. She lurched forward to hug him, though moments later she jerked back and away like she had been hugged. "Stiles," she gasped, "What did you do?"

Lechy Uncle Peter was there in seconds putting himself between Stiles and Lydia. Stiles narrowed his eyes slightly, holding his annoyance back. The wolf in him wanted to growl, feeling challenged by the older wolf. "Yes, Stiles, what did you do?" Peter asked his best creeper smile on, obviously having just caught Stiles new wolfy scent.

"I," he started, exaggerating the word slightly, "didn't do anything. When my partner got killed I didn't get out of the situation unscathed is all." He glared at the two of them, sidestepping to go get his bag from baggage claim. "Oh, perfect timing," he said as he saw his bag just as he got there, his hand flashed out and grabbed it.

Stiles turned around and smiled at Peter and Lydia. "You guys ready to go or not?" he asked throwing the bag over his shoulder.


	2. Powerless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a creative kick with this in the past couple of days, so just a warning, this chapter was posted relatively quickly after the last one, it won't always be like this at all. I'm not going to promise a schedule, just that I'll post them as soon as I'm finished with them.
> 
> I just got my laptop fixed, so I have that back finally. But exams are coming up and I am in college sooo, I am pretty busy right now.

**Tinfoil/Powerless**

**By: Linkin Park**

You hid your skeletons when I had shown you mine  
You woke the devil that I thought you'd left behind  
I saw the evidence, the crimson soaking through  
Ten thousand promises, ten thousand ways to lose

And you held it all, but you were careless to let it fall  
You held it all, and I was by your side  
Powerless

I watched you fall apart and chased you to the end  
I'm left with emptiness that words cannot defend  
You'll never know what I became because of you  
Ten thousand promises, ten thousand ways to lose

And you held it all, but you were careless to let it fall  
You held it all, and I was by your side, powerless

And you held it all, but you were careless to let it fall  
You held it all, and I was by your side, powerless

Powerless

Powerless

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The car ride back from Sacramento was _awkward_. Stiles had tried sparking conversation several times but neither Peter nor Lydia was going for it. They gave simple answers to his questions, or didn't say anything at all. So Stiles ended up in the backseat, with his foot bouncing and trying to keep from bouncing around the inside of the car. They seemed to sense that something was off with him, something more than him being a wolf too now. It turned them away from him naturally.

Stiles knew what it was but he didn't want to say anything. Didn't want the chaos yet that he knew would break forth once he saw Derek again. Because Derek would sense it and immediately be able to identify it, and that was a basket full of crazy that Stiles wished didn't exist. But it did. And he was going to have with it. Sooner. Rather than later.

"Um…Peter, my house is the other direction," Stiles said leaning forward. He felt weird referring to his father's home as his. But it was. He was the next of kin, everything went to him.

"I know," Peter said with one of his creepy smiles before ignoring Stiles again. Continued to drive out to the Hale house.

Stiles closed his eyes and took circular breathes through his nose and mouth. Trying to keep his heart beat under control. His anxiety threatened his control, and he couldn't lose control. Not now.

"Stiles you're ripping the seat," Lydia's voice broke him from his concentration. He looked down and sure enough his nails had grown into claws and they were ripping through the seat covering easily.

"Ugh, dammit. Peter, I'll pay you back. I'm sorry. I'm new at this. Holy shit that looks bad. I really will pay you back. Sorry, sorry, sorry," he said in a rush holding his hands up and away from everything else. "Fuuck."

"Stiles it's fine. Trust me that back seat has seen worse," Peter said hiding his annoyance behind another creepy smile, even though it caused the air in the car to have a bitter scent to it.

"Oh. My. God. Did you just allude to having sex back here? Peter that's disgusting. Beyond disgusting. You are seriously a lecherous creep," Stiles whined, disgusted and wanting out of the back seat.

Peter chuckled but didn't say anything more because they were on the driveway up to the house. And the house was soon looming in front of them. Stiles hadn't seen it since he left, and it hadn't been finished with the remodel yet.

"Daaaamn, this place looks nice," he said nearly pressing his face against the window. "Wow, I knew it would look good but this is beyond amazing. So much better than that creepy husk it used to be." He scrambled out of the back wanting to really look at the house. He turned back and frowned, neither Peter nor Lydia were moving out of the vehicle. He leaned back in grabbing his bag while he was at it. "I'm guessing you two aren't coming in?" They just looked at him and he sighed stepping back and shutting the door with a little more force than was necessary. "Great. Awesome. Fantastic."

"We're just going to get the others is all," Peter said, not bothering to roll down the window as he pulled down the driveway. Knowing that Stiles would be able to hear now.

Stiles pursed his lips watching it go. What? Did they think he was stupid? The pack didn't need them to run around and pick them up anymore. They had cars, they knew how to get here. Wrinkling his nose he turned towards the house and promptly froze. Derek stood on the porch at the top of the stairs. His eyes boring into Stiles, glowing that eerie Alpha red. He felt his own wolf surge in response, knowing his eyes flashed that same color.

Because that was what was wrong with Stiles. He had killed the Alpha that bit him, the Alpha that had killed Erica. He'd used his bullets specially soaked in aconite oil for situations like that. Situations where he ran across the supernatural while on a case.

"Derek," Stiles breathed, his voice coming out hoarse. And all he could hear was the roaring of his suddenly flying heart beat in his ears. He hadn't seen that face for nine years and it still had the ability to make him weak and frightened. Which had his inner wolf snarling and raising its hackles defensively.

Derek's lip curled back over his teeth, showing fangs that didn't belong in a mostly human mouth. "Stiles. What the fuck did you do?" the Alpha growled as he stalked down the stairs. Stiles didn't stay on the fact that he didn't back down, that he didn't have the urge to back away.

"Jesus, what is it with you guys and thinking that it's immediately my fault?" Stiles said dropping his bag next to his feet and shaking his head. He raised his chin slightly, realizing it wasn't the best thing to do belatedly, because Derek's eyes seemed to become even redder than they had been moments before. "I get attacked and it's my fault. I nearly-"

"Shut. Up." Derek was right in his face now. Too close, and too angry.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. Noticing they were the same height now he leaned forward slightly, his own lip curling. "No. You don't get to tell me to shut up. I just get back and the first thing you want to do bully me. I'm not some weak teenage boy anymore, I've-"

"Invaded on another Alpha's territory," Derek interrupted, his voice getting the deep undertone to his voice.

Stiles mouth snapped shut. He had a point. "I'm not here to steal your pack dude," he said realizing that Derek's wolf half probably thought that. And the truth in the statement seemed to make the other relax slightly. "I'm here to bury Dad."

"And then you're just going to leave again, right?" Derek said bitterly, his face going from territorial to bitch face. He stalked around Stiles and the younger Alpha had to fight not to turn with him, holding back a growl when he lost sight of Derek, though when he registered the others words he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"No," he snarled indignantly. "You know I didn't want to leave the first time. You don't get to rub that in my face," he hissed, his eyes flashing as he turned on Derek. It was his turn to get in the other Alpha's face.

"No? I believed you when you said you didn't want to leave nine years ago. Now? Not so much. We all tried contacting you, Stiles. The pack was a mess for months. You ignored my phone calls. Me, you ignored me Stiles. You didn't even come back when Allison gave birth.

"Now, you come back like a big bad Alpha and expect us to just accept you with open arms? Well, guess what, we don't need you or want you," Derek's voice was low and deadly.

Stiles stared at Derek, his mouth falling open with shock. Speechless. Derek looked like he didn't believe he had said that either. After what felt like an eternity Stiles finally said, "I knew it wasn't going to be easy. The Alpha thing just makes it harder. I guess it was selfish of me to want my pack when I hadn't been there for them." He stepped back from Derek, anger forgotten in favor for the more powerful emotion of guilt.

He wouldn't meet Derek's gaze as he backed down. Leaning over he picked up his forgotten bag and grimaced when he heard cars pulling into the driveway. He could hear chatter, washed out and unintelligible from this distance still.

Neither of them spoke, just watched unhappily as Lydia and Peter pulled back up Isaac sitting in the backseat, looking like the excited puppy that he was. Shortly followed by Jackson and Danny, Allison and Scott with a baby seat, and finally Boyd with an unknown but pretty woman. Each in their respective cars. Their chatter fell silent as they felt the tense atmosphere around the two men.

"Stiles?" Scott said with a frown looking between them. Allison started to take a step towards Stiles but Scott pulled her back by the hand with a frown seeing the red undercurrent in Stiles eyes.

Stiles turned from them, back to Derek. "Alpha Hale," he said formally, earning a shocked look from everyone. "I request permission to visit Hale territory until I have settled my Father's estate?"

The silence was suffocating, no one moved or breathed. The pack obviously surprised by the tail end of the conversation. But Stiles didn't dare look away from Derek.

"Stiles," Derek started, looking a mixture of constipated, and like Stiles had kicked his puppy. "I didn't mean what I said." His face was pleading as his eyes searched Stiles own face. But Stiles kept his face closed off, stoic. When it was obvious Stiles was going to remain unresponsive to what he said, Derek sighed heavily. "Fine, you have my permission," he growled.

But, Stiles was no longer paying attention to the pack or Derek. But at the front door of the house that had opened to reveal a woman.

A woman wearing one of Derek's Henley's.

A woman who smelled like Derek.

And sex.

Derek's face paled. Stiles felt heat crawling up his neck and ears. Allison gasped, followed by the sharp smell of her anger drifting into Stiles nostrils. Scott, Boyd and Isaac growled. Danny looked uncomfortable and like he wanted to be anywhere else. Peter, Lydia, and the woman who had accompanied Boyd were the only ones who didn't have a reaction. Or at least didn't show it. But Stiles figured that that was because she was probably confused. Peter and Lydia because they were Peter and Lydia, the sassiest people on the planet. Nothing bothered them.

And for the first time since being bitten Stiles felt the wolf rip through his control.


	3. No Light No Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say thanks. Because this is awesome with how many people have taken interest in this. I didn't think it was that good, being my first story. 
> 
> And I'm trying to keep it from being cheesy or anything. I really am. And if you have any constructive criticism I would like to hear it. I don't have a Beta and I try not to reread chapters because I usually rewrite it. I seriously rewrote this chapter five times. No joke.
> 
> I do want to apologize for the wait. Bunches of stuff going on right now at home. And school.

No Light, No Light

By: Florence and the Machine

You are the hole in my head  
You are the space in my bed  
You are the silence in between  
What I thought and what I said  
  
You are the night-time fear  
You are the morning when it's clear  
When it's over your start  
  
You're my head  
You're my heart  
  
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes  
I never knew daylight could be so violent  
A revelation in the light of day  
  
You can't choose what stays and what fades away  
And I'd do anything to make you stay  
  
No light, no light  
No light  
  
Tell me what you want me to say  
Through the crowd I was  
Crying out and  
In your place there were a thousand other faces  
  
I was disappearing in plain sight  
Heaven help me  
I need to make it right  
You want a revelation  
You want to get right  
But it's a conversation  
I just can't have tonight  
  
You want a revelation  
Some kind of resolution  
You are the revelation  
  
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes  
I never knew daylight could be so violent  
A revelation in the light of day  
  
You can't choose what stays and what fades away  
And I'd do anything to make you stay  
  
No light, no light  
No light  
  
Tell me what you want me to say  
But would you leave me,  
If I told you what I've done  
  
And would you leave me  
If I told you what I've become  
'Cause it's so easy,  
To sing it to a crowd  
But it's so hard, my love  
To say it to you, all alone  
  
No light, no light in your bright blue eyes  
I never knew daylight could be so violent  
  
A revelation in the light of day,  
You can choose what stays and what fades away  
And I'd do anything to make you stay  
  
No light, no light  
No light  
  
Tell me what you want me to say  
  
You want a revelation  
You want to get right  
But, it's a conversation  
I just can't have tonight  
You want a revelation  
Some kind of resolution.  
You are the revelation.  
  
You want a revelation  
You want to get right.  
But, it's a conversation,  
I just can't have tonight.  
You want a revelation  
Some kind of resolution  
Tell me what you want me to say

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

_Mine._

The rage that filled his wolf was startling, and he felt his already faulty control slipping.

_Mine._

Stiles had never lost control of his wolf like this before.  Not even on his first full moon as an Omega.  Even though he had taken precautions in case he would.  His current lapse in control could come from several different things.

His first full moon as an Alpha was fast approaching.  His father had just died.  Erica died because of an idiotic mistake that he made.  Plus he got bit during said idiotic mistake.  His anxiety of coming back to Beacon Hills and not knowing what to expect with that. 

‘His catalyst however was a combination of the two things that were practically just dumped in his lap.  One: Derek was his mate.  Something he had suspected with the way Derek had acted before he left nine years ago.  But it was also something that frightened the hell out of him, so he tried not to think about it, because it was also followed by crippling guilt.  Two: Derek was sleeping with some woman.  A very beautiful woman who seemed nicer and acted like she had less commitment issues than Stiles himself had.

Whatever the reason, Stiles snapped.  His vision covered by a red haze of rage.  A snarl had his li curling.  Baring elongated fangs.  His level headed side whispered in the back of his mind.  Warning him to calm down, warning he was outnumbered, that the Alpha before him was stronger, and that he should not attack his mate.

That last thought caused him to hesitate.  And that seemed enough time for Derek to leap forward, his larger bulk easily shoving Stiles’ smaller form down.  It knocked the breathe out of him, but that didn’t seem to slow his wolf down or Derek.  While Derek struggled to pin Stiles down, Stiles struggled to roll them over and gain the upper hand.  For a moment he did manage to roll them, satisfaction blooming in his chest for just a moment before Derek had them rolling back over again.

Pain flared through Stiles shoulder as Derek’s fangs bit down into the flesh.  His head fell back and he howled as Derek bit down harder.  A clawed hand wrapped around his through, Stiles brought his good arm up to defend himself, but Derek had that pinned as well with a simple movement.

“Stop,” Derek snarled down at him, Stiles snapped at him in reply, unwilling to submit.  “Dammit Stiles submit.  I don’t want to hurt you,” his tone was full of authority, but there was a gentle under tone, pleading.  Stiles just had to wait out his shoulder healing, he was an Alpha, a wound even from Derek would heal without hindrance.  But Derek seemed to already realized this himself and he growled, his hand tightening around Stiles wrist until a sickening wet crunch was followed by another howl of pain from Stiles.  The pain was sobering and the red haze started to fade.

“Fuck,” Stiles hissed.  Panic started to well up inside of him, causing Derek to tighten his grip in response to the acceleration of Stiles heart, expecting another outburst.  But Stiles only whimpered, letting his head fall back further, baring his throat.

“Derek,” Scott’s voice was wary, but closer than Stiles expected.

“Goddammit, get the fuck off of me,” Stiles hissed, unable, to meet Derek’s glare.  Derek growled at him, releasing his throat and wrist, but refusing to move from straddling him.

“I want someone watching him at all time.  He’s obviously not stable enough to be left alone, at least not this close to the full moon,” Derek said glaring at his Beta’s, who all seemed to have moved much closer during the debacle.

Stiles silently glared up at Derek, his shoulder healed enough that he could cradle his wrist against his chest.  He didn’t move, even when Derek stood and walked back to the house (more like stomp haughtily).

“Stiles?” Scot asked tentatively.

“What?” Stiles voice was rough and cracked.  His pride more wounded than his body, he sta up and kept his head down.  It wasn’t even that Derek had won, it was expected.  He was glad he had been stopped, no one was hurt.  He was more wounded by the fact that he had lost control of himself so easily.  That he was so stressed out that he lost control with such little provocation.

“Should I look at your wrist?” Scott moved tentatively closer to Stiles.

It still hurt…a lot.  But he could feel the unpleasant itchy feeling that said it was healing.   And the tingling in his shoulder was starting to fade.  Stiles studied his wrist for a moment, it looked like it would heal correctly.  “No…no, it’s already healing okay,” he said shaking his head, getting carefully to his feet, feeling unsteady.  Tired. 

Tired enough that he didn’t feel the need to fidget, or fill the awkward silence.  He could curl up somewhere and just sleep.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Stiles didn’t know how or when, but at some point Isaac and Scott coaxed Stiles into one of the cars.  And now he was lying in a puppy pile in Scotts living room. 

Only Boyd, Isaac, Jackson, Lydia, Scott, Allison, and Danny went back to Scott and Allison’s home.  Boyd’s wife, Amelia, heading back to their home to relieve their babysitter.  Peter had stayed back at the Hale house, most likely to bug Derek, that and he was never welcome to puppy piles.  He was too creepy and sassy.

Isaac was the first to speak up.

“Stiles?” Isaac waited for Stiles to make a noise in reply.  “Why did you leave?” 

Stiles chest constricted because there was more to Isaac’s tone.  He was asking more than that.  Why did you abandon us?  Why didn’t you come back? 

“I was scared.  And then my pride kept me away.  I didn’t want to admit that I was wrong in leaving.  That I didn’t have to leave like I had thought.  By the time I wanted to come home, I’d made a life, I was almost done with college.  And the damage was done, I didn’t think I could come back,” Stiles said quietly, knowing that everyone would hear him just fine.  Stiles didn’t say all of the other reasons he had for not coming back.  Even though they all hung in the air.  After so much time passing he was scared of their rejection.  Scott wanted him back but that was Scott.  They’d been friends since they were in diapers.  That is a bond that doesn’t break, no matter what.  But, he was scared of the others hating him.

Scott and Derek were still the only two that knew exactly why he left.  He hadn’t wanted to stay in the town that housed the man who had made his life hell.  Hadn’t wanted to be in the same state.

Stiles sighed, fidgeting slightly as he debated telling them all.  He might as well, though his very being rebelled against revealing something so personal.  Stiles relaxed slightly when he felt Isaac’s arms tighten around one of his legs.

“I wanted to stay with you guys.  My leaving had nothing to do with you.  I couldn’t stay here in this town anymore.  My…my Dad blamed me for my mother’s death.  And he let me know that…” Stiles cleared his throat before swallowing painfully, “Ever day he let me know that I should have died in that car wreck.  He would lock me in one of the downstairs closets during his drinking binges at first.  But as I got older he stopped that in favor of just beating the shit out of me.”  His whole body was tensed up, ready to run.  No one was speaking, he could smell their horror and disgust, here it in their heartbeats.  “But even when he was drunk he was smart enough to know not to hit where someone would be able to see it.  Sometimes when he was sober he would be like my old dad.  Tell me he was proud of me, or buy me something that he knew I wanted.  But it always made him being drunk worse, harder to take in.”

Stiles stopped there, unable to say anymore, closing his eyes to try and fend off the panic attack he felt trying claw its way out of his lungs.  The tension in the room wasn’t helping.  He felt Isaac’s claws pricking his leg slightly, not breaking the skin, and he could feel the other man trembling slightly.  Isaac had gone through much the same thing, he had always been too scared to bring it up to the wolf though when they were teenagers.

Stiles felt his hand searching through the limbs around him until he felt Isaac’s soft curly hair.  He ran his fingers through them until the others heart calmed down, but he kept his fingers buried in the strands even after.  He didn’t say a word, not wanting to make Isaac uncomfortable by pointing out they had gone through very similar things.

Stiles frowned as he felt everyone start moving at the same time, everyone trying to get as close to Stiles as possible, wanting to be touching him as much as they could.  He didn’t complain, even though he felt like he was suffocating.

“You’re a dumbass Stiles,” Jackson huffed, his voice was followed by a light swatting noise and an annoyed huff from Danny.

“Stiles, we never hated you for leaving.  We just wanted you happy, even if that wasn’t with us.  Don’t get me wrong, we missed you, we wanted you back with the pack.  But if you couldn’t be here, you couldn’t be here,” Danny said, his tone softer, making up for Jackson.

“You did send cards, a lot of them too,” Allison pointed out.  “And you called Scott at least once a month, to make sure everything was okay.  You still did research too.”  Allison was being nice, Stiles knew, trying to make him feel better.  Because yeah most of what she said was true, but if someone got on the phone while he was talking to Scott, Stiles would immediately hang up. 

“You were always pack, even if you were three thousand miles away,” Boyd said.  “Even if your absence turned Derek into a total monster.”

The room fell silent again.  Because the mention of Derek had Stiles tensing again, and he felt guilty for the way he acted all over again.

“So…who was that woman?” Stiles asked because it had been eating at him, along with the silence.

Everyone groaned.  “Her names Emily,” Lydia supplied, her tone slightly annoyed.  “I told Derek she should be gone before you got here.  Obviously he ignored me.  I think he was just being spiteful to you, but he just cut his nose off to spite his face.”

Stiles laughed with the others at the expression she used.  Because, who said that? 

“She seems nice enough, Derek said that he knew her from before.  But, she hasn’t really taken time to get to know anyone else in the pack.  She’s a witch though…she sets my wolf on edge,” Isaac murmured, his voice muffled, and Stiles suspected that someone was partially laying on top of him because he could still feel his arms around his leg.  And his fingers were still curled in the hair, and someone was laying on his hand.

“She’s fake.  Too sweet for my taste,” Lydia sneered, her tone giving off her distaste.  “Don’t worry about that now Stiles.  You’ve got weeks to do that.  Tonight you need to relax, you’ve had a lot going on.”

Stiles knew Lydia’s words were meant to make him feel better, but they didn’t.  Not at all.  Though he did feel better about the pack about being back.  They didn’t hate him. 

The rest of the night went by pretty damn well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please...be gentle. I beg of you.


	4. The Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : I want to apologize for the long wait. No this is not abandoned. I would have said something if it had been. I’ve just been going crazy with real life. Between hard classes I had to take this semester, finals, and my parents having a meltdown, I’ve had a hard time with my muse. Hopefully with it being summer and me only having to worry about work(which consists of me sitting in front of computer talking to angry people all day) things will calm down enough that I can think about something other than wanting to sleep all the time.   
> Also! If you haven’t noticed I have posted a poll on whether or not I should write a much shorter version of this where Erica is alive, however this is only available on ff.net, so if you follow me on their too you should totally participate. But if you still want to participate on here, just say if you want it or not. If I did it would be shorter and much less complicated than I plan on this one being, so it would be a side story, but I know several people didn’t enjoy that she wasn’t in this. Which is slightly annoying, because just because she’s dead doesn’t mean she doesn’t play as important of a role. In fact, her role is still very big. Her death is what is going to help me develop Stiles character in this. But meh, everybody has their opinion.  
> So here is the next chapter, and please forgive me for the long wait. And please forgive the grammar because I didn’t read it and I don’t have a beta.

Band of Horses

The Funeral

I'm coming up only to hold you under  
And coming up only to show you wrong  
And to know you is hard; we wonder...  
To know you all wrong; we warn.  
  
Ooooooooh Oooooooooh  
Ooooooooh Oooooooooh  
  
Really too late to call,  
So we wait for; morning to wake you  
Is all we got  
To know me as hardly golden  
Is to know me all wrong, they warn.  
  
At every occasion, I'll be ready for the funeral  
At every occasion, once more, it's called the funeral  
At every occasion, oh, I'm ready for the funeral  
At every occasion, oh, one billion day funeral  
  
I'm coming up only to show you down for  
And coming up only to show you wrong.  
  
To the outside: the dead leaves lay on the lawn  
For they don't have trees to hang their own.  
  
Ooooooooh Oooooooooh  
Ooooooooh Oooooooooh  
  
At every occasion  
I'll be ready for the funeral  
At every occasion once more  
It's called the funeral  
At every occasion  
Oh, I'm ready for the funeral  
Every occasion  
Of one billion day funeral

/\/\/\/\/\/\

The next three days passed quickly for Stiles.  Stiles officially met Amelia, Boyds’ wife, and their seven year old son.  Stiles had given them a disapproving look when he found the boy’s name was Vernon, unable to help pointing out the fact that Boyd himself would not go by the name.  Boyd had just smiled slightly and shrugged. 

He also got to meet Allison and Scotts daughter, they had named her Victoria after Allison’s mother.  Stiles had mixed feelings on this, because the woman had tried killing Scott, but then she had also been Allison’s mother, and Allison had loved her very much. He regretted again, not being there for her birth.

The pack had stayed close, showing how much they had missed Stiles.  And while Stiles loved it himself, having missed them so much, his wolf was restless, enjoying the feeling of having the other wolves around, but uneasy that they were not pack.  Stiles was a lone Alpha, on the verge of Omega, and while he never saw Derek he could smell him all over the others in the pack, and that had him restless.  He could not claim the others as pack, no matter how much they insisted that he was, at least not until Derek claimed him as pack. Though he was doubting that as a possible thing that could happen right now.

Even so, he hadn’t heard or seen Derek.  Which was a relief because he already had a lot on his plate.  Isaac had been toting him around for the past three days.  Taking him to all of his appointments.  And while having someone there with him was nice, he knew it was on orders that he was never left alone.  The fact it was always Isaac bugged him, like it was intentional on the packs part.  As if everyone expected him to suddenly have a connection with the young man because of their similar upbringing. 

Nobody else knew what to do with Stiles anymore(except Scott, who doesn’t count because he’s like a puppy dog whose owner came home from a long trip), because they had all changed over the past nine years, but unlike everyone else Stiles hadn’t changed as a part of the pack.  He was separate.  Almost alien from the hyperactive little shit they remembered him as.  Him being a new Alpha didn’t help matters, no one knew how to act around him, their human halves wanting to treat him one way, while their wolves cowered and snapped at the presence of a foreign Alpha.  It all set Stiles teeth on edge because he still had the urge to change and claim himself a pack.  But he couldn’t blame them.  Couldn’t be upset about anyone or anything, but himself and his actions.  Because this was his fault. 

“Stiles,” Scott’s voice had him startling out of his thoughts, it sounded like he’d been saying it for a while.

“Jesus,” Stiles hissed glancing over his shoulder at his best friend.  “So much for werewolf hearing right?” he snorted, lips quirking in an amused smirk.  He was sitting outside on their back porch, feeling overwhelmed by everyone inside the house.  They had made a habit of everyone gathering in the evenings to spend time together with Stiles.  He appreciated it, he really did, but he felt crowded and tired.

Scott grinned at Stiles before sitting next to him.  The smile faded though and his eyes got their puppy gleam as concern replaced the happier emotions.  Stiles grimaced turning away.  “You okay?  You disappeared,” Scott fidgeted slightly, his eyes never leaving the side of Stiles head.

“Yeah, dude, I’m fine.  Just got crowded, itching because the full moon is coming up this weekend.  A lot going on this week.  It’s all  got my wolf on edge,” Stiles was unwilling to lie, not just because Scott would hear it if he did, but he didn’t want to feel the burden of carrying his concerns on his shoulders anymore, he didn’t want to feel alone.

“Do you think…with the funeral and all being tomorrow it’ll help?” Scott asked, leaning towards Stiles, their shoulders and thighs brushing.  The physical contact seemed to calm Stiles wolf some, the angry buzzing in the back of his head quieting to a soft hum.

“I hope so,” he sighed.  “Though just because he’s buried doesn’t mean I’m finished dealing with the mess he left behind.  I still haven’t been by the house.  And the day after tomorrow I have to have dinner with Derek,” at the mention of Derek Stiles’ stomach churned with anxiety and guilt.  He wished, not for the first time that he had a time machine so that he could go back and never leave Beacon Hills.  “I should have come back three months ago.  I should have never stayed, I should have let the area pack take care of the rogue Alpha.”  He scrubbed his hands through his hair, shocked to find claws scraping at his scalp. 

Scott wasn’t leaning against him anymore, he had moved slightly away and seemed to be struggling with some inner turmoil.  It took Stiles a second to realize it was because he’d partially shifted, and Scott was struggling with being Stiles’ best friend and Stiles being an Alpha.  Stiles leaned forward with a growl, wrapping his arms around his stomach.  He practiced deep breathing, like he used to with his panic attacks.  He figured he succeeded with pulling himself together when Scott pressed back up against his side.

“Things will work out Stiles.  You have to believe that, Derek will help.  You know he will,” Scott said, he looked constipated, struggling to find words that would help.  Not realizing they made Stiles feel worse.  Because yes, Derek would help, but he wouldn’t want to.  And maybe, Stiles felt, he’d be doing it to get Stiles to leave all the faster. 

“Yeah, sure dude.  I’m tired, gonna go hit the hay.  Tomorrow is the big day after all,” he made a face as he stood, eyeing Scott as he did the same.

“Okay, let’s make pancakes in the morning?  Like we used to when you’d stay the night?” Scott said, face lighting up.  Stiles couldn’t say no, so he smiled and nodded.  Because even if he was in a bad mood, having something that used to be normal, sounded really fucking nice.

Stiles bid everyone good night, they were all curled up in the living room, watching some zombie movie.  And he had barely made it under the covers when his door opened slowly.  Isaac entered the room quietly, shutting the door carefully behind him.  There was rustling as he took his pants off, leaving his shirts and briefs on as he slid in behind Stiles.  Stiles didn’t question the action, just rolled over and curled into the beta’s chest.  Taking the offered comfort, because while Stiles had never gotten close with Isaac in his time with the pack, he had liked him, how he’d become so strong even after what he had suffered with his own father.  Stiles had envied his freedom.  But now he had it too, and it was a little nice to have someone who understood what was happening in his head.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Isaac wasn’t there when Stiles woke up the next morning.  But he didn’t think anything of it as he stretched and trudged his way to the guest bathroom, letting the hot water wake him up.  He could hear some of the pack still sleeping in the living room down stairs, and their even breathing and heart beats were a soothing rhythm.  Scott was making coffee when he finally came down stairs, and Isaac was rummaging through the cabinets getting the needed ingredients for pancakes. 

“Do you want chocolate chip or blueberry pancakes?” Isaac asked, turning to face him as Stiles came into the kitchen.

“Both?  Because with the amount of hungry wolves in the living room we’re going to end up making both anyways, and still run out,” Stiles answered, a slight smile pulling at his lips, remembering how the all used to go through mountains of them.  A human Stiles had an appetite to match a werewolf’s so he had been there right along with them.

Isaac nodded, getting two bags of chocolate chips out of the pantry and several packs of blueberries out of the fridge.  “Then you take care of the chocolate chips and I’ll take care of the blueberries,” he said with a smile.

Stiles found out that the reason Isaac picked blueberry was because he ate the berries while he made the batter.  And just like Stiles had pointed out, they ran out of both before everyone was satisfied, so they had to settle for plain pancakes as well.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Stiles was the only Stilinski left.  This meant the family room, used for families to pray for their departed loved ones, was empty except for Scott, who he had wanted there for moral support.  They had brought sunglasses for Stiles to wear, because periodically his eyes would flash red and the last thing they needed was for the townsfolk to see that.

The funeral was a simple affair, the only part that wasn’t simple was the fact pretty much all of Beacon Hills showed up.  Which Stiles had expected, his father had after all been the Sheriff up until a year ago, when he had retired.  And the man had been an exemplary citizen in every way but being a good father.  He was a wonderfully functional drunk when he wanted to be.

Stiles kept himself under well enough control he didn’t have to wear the sunglasses within the funeral home. 

Everything was going well until the funeral went graveside.  Mama McCall, Scott, and Allison sat in family seating with him.  The funeral had been the first time that he’d seen Melissa since getting to Beacon Hills and she had immediately wrapped him in a hug and started crying about how big he had gotten, and how grown up he looked.  It had lightened his mood a little bit.  The pack had made sure he started the day on a good note, and he was thankful for that.  The pleasant hum that was his wolf made dealing with this so much easier. 

There was no fear in him, no anxiety over burying the man who had hurt him for so long, who had haunted his dreams.  There was a sense of relief almost, and a sadness that had his chest aching.  He was the last of his family, and while he didn’t love the man his father had become, he had loved the man his father used to be.  Because John Stilinski used to be a good man, but when his wife died all the goodness left him.  He became the soulless husk of who he used to be.  And Stiles couldn’t help but feel that was his fault.  After all, his mother wouldn’t have been in the car that day if it weren’t for him.

Stiles hadn’t realized his claws were digging into his legs until Isaac’s hand came from behind him, where the blonde was standing, and squeezed his shoulder, yanking him suddenly back to the funeral.  Stiles closed his eyes again and took in a deep breath, trying to gain control of himself again.  However, the calming breath didn’t have the calming effect that he had hoped.  Because as he took the breath, the wind shifted, bringing with it the scent of the forest after a fresh spring rain, a scent that was far too familiar to Stiles and had his wolf howling.  Seeing as it hadn’t rained in over a week, and it was the middle of winter time, there was only one place that scent was coming from.

His head snapped to the right, blazing Alpha red caught hazel green.  Derek was standing off to the side, away from the funeral party.  He was staring right back at Stiles, his face its customary blank.  His scent was clean, unblemished by the females (Emily, he liked to pretend he didn’t remember her name) scent like it had been days before.  His wolf snarled and howled wanting to claim, and Stiles claws dug into his legs again as he forced himself to turn away, clinging to his anchor with the best of his ability.  Concentrating on Isaac’s hand still on his shoulder, but this seemed to upset his wolf further, and before he  made the conscious decision to, he was out of his chair and pushing his way through the crowd around the grave site.  But he wasn’t going in the direction of Derek, he had enough sense to go in the opposite direction.

His feet pushed him harder and faster as the edges of his vision went red.  He cleared the fence surrounding the grave yard with a swift leap, thankfully it wasn’t a tall fence.  The graveyard was on the edges of Beacon Hills, surrounded mostly by the forest.  He jerked his jacket off, letting it fall somewhere behind him, shortly it was followed by his tie.  He let the wolf guide him, gave into the mindless instincts of the animal, so that he didn’t have to think.

When he came back again he was standing in front of what used to be his childhood home.  Stiles was hardly out of breath, though his cheeks were slightly chilled from running in the cold December afternoon air.

/\/\/\/\/\/\

Isaac found Stiles later sitting in what was his old bedroom, but had become a storage space.  The rest of the house was destroyed, things broken and thrown.  Claw marks raked the walls and furniture with the fury of a suffering beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again. This didn’t turn out like I had wanted. But I am happy to have finally finished it. If Stiles seems a little unhinged that is on purpose. He just lost Erica, he has mixed feelings about the loss of his father, he found out Derek is his mate and he feels guilty about the pain that he has caused him. All of his on top of being a relatively new werewolf and Alpha. So yeah…please read and review. Be gentle though haha.


	5. Your Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Please don’t kill me. I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long. And I know I promised I wouldn’t disappear like this again but so much has been going on. There was school (I graduated with my Associates in Social Sciences in May of 2014) and I just started at University for my Bachelors and just LIFE. I’m hoping now that I am settled (I even have my own place now guys) I will be able to get something more done with my free time.

Chapter 4

Your Ghost

Greg Laswell

 

 

Stiles woke up slowly; his body was heavy almost like it was trying to drag him back down into the world of sleep. He fought it and was rewarded with sunlight right in his eyes.  He groaned and rolled the other way to stretch, not quite ready for that amount of light. He froze however when he rolled right into a warm body.

 

The curly blonde hair immediately had him bolting upright, expecting a much more feminine figure to be lying next to him. But as his shock chased away the rest of sleep he realized that it was just Isaac.  He felt the familiar disappointment that had been a usual for him since losing Erica.  God, he missed that woman.

 

Trying to think on something else he turned to look at the rest of the room, and take stock of his situation. They were both clothed, Isaac more so than Stiles.  Stiles was wearing the remains of his suit, and boy, had it seen better days.  Isaac was still in his own suit, it was rumpled and the sleeves had been rolled up, it was partially unbuttoned at the top and the tie was gone.

 

Stiles stared at the peaceful mask of sleep that was Isaac.  He wondered for a moment if he would ever feel that again.  He had lost everything that mattered to him, and by, what felt like, his own hands. His mother was dead, and with her the man his father used to be, he had crushed any hope of ever being with Derek, and Erica had been taken away too.  All by his own stupidity; his mother wouldn’t have been in the car that day if not for his tantrum, his father wouldn’t have started drinking again if not for the previous event, he walked out on Derek even as the wolf begged him to stay, and Erica had died because he refused to call for back up.

 

It had been those exact thoughts that had driven him from the funeral the day before.  And they drove him from the pallet Isaac had made them on the floor of the living room.   He had been blazing mad when he had reached his childhood home the night before, and had blindly swept through the house like a tornado, leaving chaos in his wake.

 

Stiles assessed the damage as he walked around the downstairs.  It wasn’t too bad, he figured, there was one gash in the wall of the hallway, and generally the only destroyed items were pictures and furniture.  There was no fixing the dining room table. Most of it could be thrown away, which he had planned on doing.  He didn’t want any of it, other than a few of the surviving pictures of his mothers, and some of her valuables that he hoped were still in the attic.

 

He made his way back to the kitchen and started straightening up the mess he had made in there, being as quiet as he could so that he wouldn’t wake up Isaac.  The blonde werewolf did in fact stay asleep until Stiles had put bacon on the stove, and then he was standing bleary eyed in the door way rubbing sleep from his face and rumpled hair.  Stiles raised his eyebrows at the grumble that came from Isaac’s stomach. Isaac just gave a large yawn and ambled over to watch Stiles fry most of a pack of bacon and a carton of eggs.

 

“Hungry much?” Isaac eyed the heaping plates of food.

 

“You aren’t?  I know how werewolves eat,” Stiles knew that he could easily eat more than half of what he made, so could Isaac.

 

And he wasn’t wrong; it didn’t take long for the food to disappear, and for them to start rooting through the cabinets for more. Two boxes of cereal and a carton of milk later they were basking on the floor of the living room again.

 

Neither of them spoke for a while and Stiles finally rolled on his side to face Isaac.

 

“Do you ever miss your Dad?”

 

“Sometimes.  I mean, I miss the Dad he was when I was little.  But…I guess I kind of already got over that. That version of him has been dead since the moment my Mom died.”

 

“Dad used to get up early and make French toast for breakfast one or two times a week…Mom loved it.  I miss the smiles the most and the hugs.  He used to give the best bear hugs,” and that was all it took for the tears to start.  He wasn’t crying for the man that Stiles had been so frightened of, but the one that gave the best bear hugs.

 

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

Stiles was embarrassed after his crying fit. He was embarrassed about everything really.  About fleeing the funeral, destroying the house.  It was all irrational for him to be acting that way.  But then he remembered how close the full moon was and how long he had been a werewolf.  Maybe irrational was normal.

 

Didn’t mean he wanted it to be.

 

Either way, he had a hard time meeting Isaac’s eye as they finished straightening up the downstairs.   That which couldn’t be saved was set out at the street to be taken to the dump with the rest of the trash.

 

“Scott wants to know if he can come over,” Isaac said carefully sitting on the counter in the kitchen as Stiles stared at the lack of contents in the fridge. 

 

“That’s fine, tell him to bring stuff for stroganoff. And tell him the others can tag along.” Stiles chewed his lip as he closed the fridge.  Cooking sounded like a good idea…and if there was a larger group of people…or a pack of werewolves there was more cooking to be done.

 

Isaac snorted.  “You knew he was asking about more than just himself.”

 

“I had a feeling…and I know how Scott is and Scott knows me.  He knows a group is a better distraction.”  Stiles façade of being okay would hold up better with a group…a group focused on multiple things; not one singular person.  And Stiles wanted to avoid that scrutiny right now.

 

Isaac was silent for a moment before he dropped off the counter and came to stand next to Stiles pressing their sides together. Stiles felt his body relax at the touch and he rolled his shoulders to loosen them.  It didn’t last.

 

“He’s not mad at you.  Derek that is.  He was worried about you after you left.  Scott convinced him it wasn’t going to help if he came looking for you.”

 

Aaaand Stiles was tense all over again. “Derek is mad at me. Just not about last night. And I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to repair the damage I’ve done to him.  To the pack either.”

 

“Pack is family Stiles.  We’ll always forgive you.  And the damage will heal, it may scar, but it will heal,” Isaac gave him one of his lopsided grins that made him look like an angel. The rare smile that always through everyone off.

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t deserve it.”

 

Isaac opened his mouth to say something more but the sounds of cars pulling into the driveway had them moving towards the door.

 

From there the evening was a loud blur of colors, noises, scents, and food.  Allison and Boyd had left their respective children at home with babysitters. Seeing everyone again reminded Stiles of how much he had missed everyone, of how much they meant to him.

 

Scott had brought enough that Stiles was able to make a huge pot of stroganoff, more than enough for everyone to have plenty. And even then there was barely enough for Stiles to take to Derek.

 

Because that was a thing he was going to do…tomorrow. Was apologize and take food to Derek. And pray he could start mending things with everyone.  Because he didn’t want to leave after settling his fathers estate.  He wanted to settle down, be a part of the pack again.

 

Because watching everyone pile on the couch and floor to watch a movie with food coma faces, waiting expectantly for them to join him.  It felt like he was coming home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so that was rough...um I am so out of shape with writing. And I'm trying to keep the characters in character and I was rushing to finish this chapter because it has been sitting in my computer for almost a year untouched. So if it weirdly changes part of the way through with how it is written and it's not quite so fluid let me know. 
> 
> Again I am SUPER sorry about this. Just...I've been in a bad spot the past two years.
> 
> But thank you guys for the kudos and follows and favorites I love you guys. :3


	6. Authors Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an update.

I'm going to do my best on getting the fixed chapter up in the next couple of days. But I FUCKED up. I realized after I posted and I've been stuck since. This is the first chance that I've had to work on fixing it (for personal reasons). I did something I hadn't meant to do yet. Too soon, too soon. Ugh fuck. Anyways. I'm rewriting the chapter. I should also apologize for the long hiatus. I'm not making any promises on anything anymore.


End file.
